Recreate Me I Crumble
by marla
Summary: Rated R. His heart pounded and he inhaled the sweet smell of blood that permeated from the walls and the floors and himself. He was saturated in it, but all were dead and he was the victor. He had survived.
1. prolog

Recreate Me (I Crumble)  
  
Prolog  
  
disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing-- never have, never will.  
  
AC 207, 16 April  
  
The protestors outside the mansion were becoming more raucous every day. Their signs grew more vicious everytime Quatre and the rest of the Winner Group shrugged them off as merely disgruntled citizens and employees. They meant business, or so their leader Edward McNare promised. Daily he declared to his followers that Quatre Winner would concede to them.  
  
Biting her bottom lip, Relena closed the lace curtains and put her back to the window. Quatre smiled at her from the Victorian, high-backed sofa, where he sat caressing the ears of a long-haired, blue cat.  
  
"Have you read the card, Dear?" He said. "It's really very sweet. I do wish he would have stayed. It would have been nice to see him again."  
  
"Quatre," Relena said sternly. "You have to do something about this! You can't tell me that this doesn't bother you."  
  
Quatre's attention was with the cat, nostalgia lingering in his eyes. "This cat really is beautiful, Dear. I don't know how you can keep from scooping him into your arms like you do with every other creature that crosses your path..."  
  
She stood in front of him, hoping to catch his attention. His eyes did find some distraction from the animal by tracing her legs up to the hem of her skirt and following the contours of her hips and torso from there. The desire to have her near him overwhelmed him and he pulled her into his lap and kissed her.  
  
She began to protest, but he placed a finger to her lips. "I know you are worried about the peace of the colonies. I worry as well. It is a constant onerous thought tearing at my heart; it is one that grows more painful everyday. It will not last much longer, that I can promise you now. But do not let the worry mar your face so, imbue yourself with peace love. We will be married within a matter of weeks..."  
  
Relena smiled and relaxed into her faience as the cat leapt into her lap and began to purr. She smiled and stroked its long, soft fur. "Where's the card that accompanied this sweet creature?" she said.  
  
Quatre maneuvered around Relena to reach the card upon the table beside the sofa. It was a white card with gold encrusted flowers and golden lettering. It was sappy, and well intentioned, and most likely chosen at random.  
  
Inside, in scribbled handwriting, it read:  
  
_This cat wondered into my place. I figured you two could take better care of him than I could. His name is Zero. Consider it a wedding gift.  
-Heero  
  
_ "It's from Heero?" she squeaked. "How very kind of him. I suppose he dropped them in the middle of the night?"  
  
"How else would our Heero go about doing anyting, Dear?" Quatre said, standing holding Relena in typical bride fashion. "Come my love, I believe we have a dinner date."  
----------  
"We have some very disturbing and mournful new this evening, ladies and gentlemen. Just over an hour ago, as Quatre Winner, a diplomat from L4, and head of the Winner Group, wa shot in the head on the way to his limousine with faience, Foreign Minister Relena Peacecraft Darlian.  
  
"The Winner Group has just released this footage, taped in one of their security choppers. Please be warned that this footage does contain some graphic content."  
  
The tape rolled, showing Quatre and Relena being escorted to their limousine by two Preventor body guads. A gun shot was heard. Relena was pushed aside by the male body guard, while the female drew her gun. Quatre was already on the ground, imbrued with blood. Shocked voices of those on the helicopter could be heard. One screamed into his phone to get the foreign minister back to the house.  
  
Then it cut back to the reporter. "Mr Winner was taken to the nearest hospital where he was pronounced dead upon arrival.   
  
"I have Preventor General Une via satellite to go more in depth about the possible reason for this assassination.  
  
"Lady Une, the Preventors are indeed labeling this as an assassination?"  
  
The lady smiled curtly. "Yes, we are."  
  
"General, does this have any connections to the protests and recent riots on the late Mr. Winner's home colony?"  
  
"That is one of the leads we are following; however, we do not want to limit the possible assassins to just one group. In fact, all the information we have at the moment points to the fact that the assassin was from McNare's group is highly unlikely. We are following leads throughout the Earth Sphere in hopes of finding exactly who is responsible for this."  
  
"Thank you, General Une," the anchor said, "I hope you keep us all posted with your findings.  
  
"In case you are just tuning in–"  
  
Sally reached up and switched off the screen.  
  
"Damnit woman, I told you something like this would happen tom him," Wufei said from the brown leather couch. Beside him, Relena sat curled with Zero in her lap. She looked a mess with tear stains and glossy, puffy eyes. She now just sat staring into nothing.  
  
"Then why didn't you have security stepped up like you said you were going to when you moved us here?!" Sally snapped back at Wufei.  
  
He crossed his arms and looked away from her. "It's too late to argue about it now. We failed."  
  
Relena shifted and began actively petting the cat again. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and she began to weep anew. Sally rushed to her side to comfort her, but Relena turned away and cradled the cat instead. "Zero, do you know why?" she sobbed.  
  
Wufei and Sally exchanged pained glances. "Zechs better get here soon..." Wufei muttered.  
to be continued...  
  



	2. chapter one

I do not own Gundam Wing, neither will I ever.  
  
Recreate Me (I Crumble)  
Chapter One  
  
AC 207, 15 March  
  
A small glass-pane window sat cracked, the breeze blowing the curtains. Artificial moonlight shone in convincing beams. The room was small, square and cluttered. In one corner was a half-sized refrigerator, microwave, and hot plate. In another, under a sink, were two baskets; clean and dirty laundry filled them respectively. A box of cheap detergent sat between them. A line for drying garments hung across the corner. Against the east wall were a table and chair, littered with small shiny components and what-nots. Larger but similar parts and tools covered the floor surrounding the table and chair. Against the far wall, opposite the window was a bed, underneath of which lie a notebook computer with a remote uplink to the internet that was impossible to trace. Sprawled upon the bed in a manner that explained his disheveled, unruly hair lay the man that wrote the untraceable program. His face lay smashed against his pillow, leaving one to question how he breathed.   
  
A blue cat, in the alley underneath the window, sat with it's tale twitching. A rather large, rather black, rather conspicuous vehicle rolled its way down the narrow alleyway. It halted two buildings from the window. A tall man, wearing a red overcoat and high black boots, strode back to the window, locking eyes with the cat. The animal hissed and leapt through the window.  
  
The man inside slept still as the cat crept over the metal, which littered the floor, to the door near the sink. There he smugly reclined himself against the frame, only to be rudely jarred from his post when the door was forced open.  
  
The man in bed was on his feet with his pistol aimed at the early morning intruder.  
  
Two red arms raised, showing two empty hands with long, slender fingers. "Put it down Heero. I'm here on business," said a raspy, even voice.  
  
Heero lowered his gun and sat at the edge of his bed to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Zechs, what kind of business is important enough for you to break into my house in the middle of the night?"  
  
Zechs maneuvered himself over the junk on the floor to the chair. He sat as if comfortable in the folding chair, an elbow on the table top, with his legs crossed. "I wouldn't call the much of a house, Yuy. However, if there were a better way for me to contact you about this, believe I would have taken the easier route."  
  
"Sorry for the inconvenience. What do you want?" Heero reclined on his bed, hands behind his head as if he didn't care anyway.  
  
Zechs sighed and sat up. "I need you to come work for me."  
  
Heero made no reaction while Zechs looked on, waiting. After a few minutes of silence Heero spoke.  
  
"Two things: What the fuck do you mean 'work for you,' and who do you want me to assassinate?"  
  
Zechs sighed once again and let a small grin spread over his lips. "You would be working indirectly for the Preventors, but to avoid any connection with the assassination you will be on my payroll, and you will have no contact with any other Preventor."  
  
"You want me to go to L4?" Heero sat up to gage Zechs.  
  
He simply nodded. "The rebels there are trying to overthrow the power of the Winner Group because once again they feel as though the Winner are to omnipotent. Though it has only begun to turn violent we are hoping to stem the obstruction before it becomes the Earth Sphere's main topic of conversation."  
  
"McNare."  
  
Zechs cleared his throat. "The head of the Winner Group is a much more likeable character than McNare is. He is also more powerful, and has a considerable more political sway. Some would say he's too powerful."  
  
Heero stood, ruffled his hair and crossed to his little refrigerator where he pulled out a bottle of beer, not offering one to Zechs. Opening it, he said, "So you want to give L4 a radical dictator, and take away half their jobs just because Quatre is fucking your sister."  
  
"More or less," Zechs stood and opened the door to leave. "Meet me at my car in two minutes if you accept the mission."  
  
Heero sipped his beer, "They're getting married aren't they?"  
  
Zechs froze. "No one knows yet. They only announced it to the household yesterday. We've been fearing this for awhile. It's a political union that can't be made. The other Lagranges would protest and there would be war."  
  
"And you're willing to pay me to kill a former comrade, bring the Preventors under scrutiny, and break your sisters heart, to avoid probable war?"  
  
"Yes, but will you do it?"  
  
"How long?"  
  
"It's all in the car."  
  
"What do I do afterward?"  
  
"I don't give a damn."  
  
"Two minutes?"  
  
"Hmm," Zechs nodded and shut the door behind him.   
  
The cat purred and circled Heero's leg. "So Zero, looks like we've accepted the mission."  
  



	3. chapter two

Please pay attention to the dates, as they are very important to the understanding of the story.  
  
I do not own Gundam Wing, nor will I ever.  
  
Recreate Me (I Crumble)  
Chapter Two  
AC 208, 17 July  
  
Over the past year Heero had preformed three jobs through Zechs's orders. He was compensated well for them, not that he cared about money, but it was a large sum for little blood and big controversy.  
  
Quatre Winner, his first target had been hit in the head with a sniper rifle. It had been blamed on a citizen of L1, who was upset about Relena marrying a diplomat from L4, therefore showing favoritism to that colony cluster. He hoped to spring a second war between Earth and the colonies. Of course, he was charged unjustly by the Preventors and imprisoned for life on a remote artificial satellite.  
  
The second was in the South American States between Drug Lords. The man's throat was slit and it was blamed upon his rival cartel's son, who was then killed by the dead man's cartel. It ended with the cartel whose head was assassinated coming to power just as the Preventors had planned. They now indirectly controlled all drug trafficking in that hemisphere.  
  
The public accepted the new trend of assassination with mild terror, but without question. Each incident died down within a few weeks. News channels discussed the Preventors' inability to prevent any of the assassinations, but they were still trusted worldwide since every episode actually bore itself to a favorable direction.   
  
L4, though many jobs were lost initially, made up for the unemployment. Within the next six months, dissolving and redistributing the responsibilities of the Winner Group, thus creating more occupations for the colonists. People moved from all over the Earth Sphere to fill empty positions. The dissolution of the Winner Group also allowed many new businesses into the L4 colony cluster, thus bolstering their economy over the next two years.  
  
The cartel assassination never hit international news for more than a heart beat, especially since occurred during the aftermath of Quatre Winner's death. It was a large victory for the Preventors, giving the organization top of the food chain status in South America.  
  
On July 10, Zechs had contacted Heero, sending him information about a particularly bloody feud. brewing in northern Africa. It was an ancient conflict that was ignited often by the hot-tempered family heads. Heero was to take the side of the poorer leading family and slaughter all of the men in the other family and entourage without being seen. It would be his most gruesome work, since he was to use homemade knives and various blades. It was to mimick the type of killing that 3as going on between the families anyway. The Preventors needed no further scrutiny from the mass media.  
  
Of course, Heero never blindly followed Zechs' orders. He had spent the last week intensely researching both the Nagali and Wellington family histories. Both families imbued their offspring with hatred for the other family. Therefore, those that lived closest to each family had allied themselves respectively, and factions had been formed. The Nagalis, the richer of the two, had been the one selected by Zechs to meet the edge of Heero's blade. However, the grievous insults of either family to the other were so horrifying to even Heero, that he felt more drastic action need be taken in order to put a stop to the feuding.   
  
The Wellington family was the family that Heero had elected to slay for three reasons. He felt that they had been the more ruthless of the two, their women were apt, but ill-prepared to retaliate against the Nagalis, and the Nagalis had more to lose by being publicly humiliated and ridiculed.   
-----------  
AC 207, 20 April  
  
Quatre's funeral was a widely televised event, carried out largely in Western tradition. Relena, Zechs, and his remaining sisters filled the first two rows at the outdoor ceremony. A few of his sisters dressed according to their religion, others simply wore black dresses like Relena.  
  
Relena, though once expected her to look a mess on the day of her fiance's burial, actually looked very elegant. She wore a chaste black dress with a veiled black hat, decorated with small white roses. A white rose was pinned to her shoulder like a corsage. She wore white gloves and carried a white, flowered, handkerchief. Her tears, though continuous, were soft and sorrowful, rather than despairing and desperate. She posed well for the cameras, dabbing at her eyes occasionally with the tasteful kerchief.   
  
About halfway through the ceremony Zechs squeezed her hand and did not let go. It was meant to appear as a reassuring gesture, though his face showed a grim indifference. She accepted it, thankfully, thinking that for at least today, she would allow him to be her brother.  
  
During the postlude, Zechs led his baby sister out by the arm as she dabbed her eyes daintily. He dropped her off in her limousine and jumped in the car behind hers.  
  
She spent the ride back to Quatre's mansion staring blankly out the back window and sighing to herself. She tried not to dwell on all that she had not to do now that she had another week before returning to work. She would have preferred work to dealing with the pain.  
  
The driver walked her from the garage to the back door as she was trying to avoid paparazzi. She meant to go straight up to her room, strip down to nakedness, and crawl into bed for the next week.  
  
Her hat had been left behind in the kitchen. Her shoes had disappeared in the hall. As she shuffled into the main living room, in search of the new cat, her panty hose hung from her left foot.  
  
She halted as her eyes found a man standing in front of a tall, elaborate bookcase, studying the titles. As if he knew the exact moment she had gazed upon him, he turned to face her. Zero was held in his left hand as he stroked him with the right.  
  
"Heero!" Relena choked, wrenching the stockings from her foot and tossing them into a corner.  
  
Zero squirmed and Heero dropped him. The cat came and rubbed himself over Relena's bear legs, purring.  
  
"He seems to be doing very well here," he said, and Relena noticed that he had cat hair on his jacket. He was wearing a very fashionable, black suit and tie. He was all in black, and she thought it odd that he had dressed for the occasion, for she had never thought of him the type to care about such things.  
  
"Have a seat," she said, gesturing toward the couch. He nodded and sat rigidly. His black leather shoes creaked as he walked, they were new.  
  
Relena herself remained standing, as she could hardly realize her situation. She avoided making eye contact with him as much as possible, and began to take an interest in the pattern on the lamp shade to her right.  
  
"Relena," a gruff voice said in her ear. The closeness caused her to jump and gasp. Taking her arm, Heero continued, "You should sit." He lead her to the sofa. She nodded many more times than necessary, and sat beside him, her eyes seeing nothing.  
  
Heero awkwardly detangled their arms, and nonchalantly brushed the car hair marring his suit. "You shouldn't lie."  
  
"I beg your pardon?!" Relena said.   
  
"You dressed yourself up so that you wouldn't appear as you felt. You lied to the public to appear strong. You shouldn't lie." He repeated.  
  
"What about you and your suit?"  
  
"I didn't dress for the funeral, nor did I attend it."  
  
"Oh," she said, and busied herself with imaginary dirt beneath her nails. "What do you want Heero?"  
  
If possible, Heero stiffened further, though his face did not falter. "I came to apologize. You are forced to endure more than necessary in the name of peace, and I am sorry."  
  
She let her eyes meet his and she could see the sincerity and pain in them. He did not break the gaze, but she did when tear spilled. Embarrassed that she was allowing herself to cry in front of a man that already thought her weak, she wiped it away, storing what was left for later.  
  
"How do you know that it will work for peace?" she asked.  
  
"You bring peace at your own expense, therefore, that which causes you grief must ultimately bring peace."  
  
"So my happiness only breeds war?" she asked indignantly.  
  
"Only in certain scenarios."  
  
Silence.  
  
"How am I to respond to you. I cannot cry in front of you, because you will berate me. I cannot scream because then I will be forced to be with a sedative."  
  
"Crying in such a situation is acceptable. Though, crying to much and too often is self-destructive."  
  
Relena scoffed and folded her arms.  
  
"You should react whichever way is natural to you."  
  
She did not move. He placed his hand upon her chin, and turned her face so that it was mere inches from his. "You are strong. This was almost too much to ask you to sacrifice." Tears once again brimmed into her eyes, yet they did not spill. Her lip would have quivered had Heero not been holding it.  
  
"What do you want Heero?" She did not move away.  
  
He allowed his face to mirror his humble and broken feeling. "Forgiveness," he said.  
  
The starkness of it all hit her and she did not understand. She threw her arms around his neck and nestled into him anyway. "You did not put these burdens on my shoulders."  
  
"Not entirely." He slowly lowered his arms around her, and let them lie, quite unsure of himself.  
  
He smelled like metal; cold and hard. She gripped his lapel anyway, and allowed herself to seek comfort in his stony presence. Sometime after he began drumming his fingers upon her back. She lifted her head so that she could feel his breath on her cheeks.  
  
"I forgive you, Heero. I forgive you, for you and I endure for the same reason."  
  
His fingers clutched the material on the back of her dress in gratitude and his face relaxed minutely.  
to be continued...  



	4. chapter three

Welcome back, I'm not really happy with the first part, but I'm afraid all my tinkering has only worsened it, so I'm giving up for now and hoping that all enjoy it as it is until I can rewrite it justly. Second part is fun though....  
Disclaimer: I don't own _Gundam Wing_, nor will I ever.  
  
Recreate Me (I Crumble)  
  
  
  
AC 208, July 18  
Red was the color of the African country side as the sun sank below the horizon. All other hues were drowned in the crimson and black. Unquiet settled over the grasses and through the trees.   
  
The night was bloodshed.  
  
Heero crept through the dilapidated building, crouching under broken stairwells and fading into shadows. The light poured through all the cracks, bathing each room in a scarlet pigment.  
  
The song of his knife penetrated each victim as the most poignant opera. He danced with blood like and expert and it was if he was a classical choreographer, lost in his passion. His show was grotesque and beautiful, deadly and lovely. All who had the chance to view him before he brought his doom admired and feared him, for his skill was great and terrible.  
  
He fell man after man, imbruing himself. Many attempted to stop him, but his knives were swifter by seconds. He was bloody, but unscathed, and he was to become champion.  
  
And then an unknown blade bit into his arm and instantly his knife was at the soldier's throat. To his shock, when his vision cleared enough, Heero found that this was no true soldier but a woman, smiling menacingly at him, craving his life blood.  
  
He thrust his blade straight through her neck in a manner similar to running one through with a sword.  
  
And then it seemed that there were only woman left and each of them threatened his life, and this was no longer a systematic elimination of confrontational males, but a survival game. He was thrilled and exalted by it.  
  
In the end all in the building were dead, regardless of age, gender, or affiliation. His heart pounded and he inhaled the sweet smell of blood that permeated from the walls and the floors and himself. He was saturated in it, but all were dead and he was the victor. He had survived.  
------  
  
AC 207, July 5th  
His rough hands caressed her smooth legs from ankle to hipbone and back again. He noted every curve, rise and fall of her naked body. She giggled as his hands crept over her ticklish ribs. Bliss oozed from the lover's faces and pleasure spilled from their pores. He lowered himself atop her and cocooned them into the light linen sheet.   
  
The morning rays shone through the French doors of the balcony in fractured pieces, creating a kaleidoscope on the soft pink wall.  
  
Safe in his arms, Relena snuggled into him, breathing in his morning smell of sweat and jasmine from the incense he constantly burned. He was home and she would trade nothing for that moment and his embrace. He was lovely.  
  
Just as the thoughts crossed her mind he disentangled himself from her and walked naked across the room to his bureau, picking a five-by-five inch box from the bottom drawer. She propped herself up against the many pillows without bothering to cover herself, curious as to what her beloved was up too.  
  
He sat down, his lean, well-toned muscles inclining him in toward her. In his flat palm he offered the white cardboard box.  
  
"Quatre!--" He silenced her protests with a kiss.  
  
"Shh. Hush, love and accept your gift."  
  
She smiled demurely and pecked it from his hand. It was light, and made no noise when shook. She opened it, and found only waded tissue paper, which she threw at Quatre in jest.  
  
"Hold on, but you didn't even check." He picked up one of the purple balls from his lap, and carefully uncrumpled it. Inside he pulled out a golden ring with a medium sized diamond on top, set off by two sapphires of the deepest blue. It slid easily onto her finger.  
  
She gasped and stared at it in wonder as he bent to one upon the floor. "Will you do me the pleasure of becoming my wife, Relena, love?"  
  
Her eyes swung to meet his and they exchanged smiles before she pulled him upon the bed to celebrate their engagement...  
  
A small smile graced Relena's lips.  
  
"Well that's an improvement," a gruff male voice said, so different from the smooth flowing notes of Quatre's.  
  
Immediately Relena was pulled back into reality, and saw her brother, Milliardo, seated across from her at her dinning room table. "I was thinking of Quatre..." she said, studying the ring which still sat upon her left ring finger.  
  
Her brother's eyes followed hers and also came to rest upon that extraordinary ring. "Have you ever though of not wearing it anymore?" He said warily.  
  
She shrugged and gave no real answer. The only thing which she seemed to care about at all any more was her work. Even then he could tell that she was not satisfied, and he was at a loss.  
  
He stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You know where to reach me if you need anything," he said, and waited until she nodded before taking his leave.  
  
He was headed over to the apartment he and Noin had been sharing the past couple of months. It was not fair to her, that Noin and her brother had each other. Still, after so long, they were together and happy. Even after all those years of game playing, they had come together a decade ago and were still growing strong. Even after their ten-year tenure on Mars, they were still alive.   
  
It wasn't fair, and she hated them for it.  
  
She hated all couples, and anyone that had anyone else. She was alone now and could do nothing about it. She had no one left. Milliardo did not count. He was hardly company, mostly he just stopped by to make sure she was still breathing, but rarely did her offer any more than a firm palm on the shoulder. He didn't know what to do either. They never had truly been siblings--at least not in her mind.  
  
A knock sounded at her door. She made no movement, knowing it would by answered by Peygan. Almost on cue Peygan appeared in the doorway, clearing his throat. "Mr. Heero Yuy is at the door, should I let him in?"  
  
Relena turned her head slowly. "No, I don't want to be bothered..." Peygan nodded and turned to go. "Wait, let him in, I'll see what he wants."  
  
She gave Peygan time to let Heero in the foyer and disappear to the stairs where he could eavesdrop.  
  
In a detached manner she stalked to the elaborate entry way and stopped to watch him. She knew he heard her enter, but he continued to study the Japanese woodblock-print. He was wearing perfectly fitting black slacks and a coffee-colored button-down shirt. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he was posed as if he were in a museum.  
  
He stood back, his eyes focused on the diagonal rain, following the directional lines into the corners. Anything to keep from looking at her.  
  
Over the past few months, she had invaded his thoughts, torturing him. He could feel her there, moving inside his head as if she knew his misdeeds. She was taunting him, luring him to her with demure glances and whispered caresses in the night.  
  
Again he found himself in her home. Her actual home–not Quatre's. She eyed him from the doorway, he knew she did. Though she was still grieving, he knew her eyes appreciated his well-fitting clothes, scruffy chin, and even his messy hair, which he had mussed a little extra just before knocking.  
  
The confusion of whether to smile and nod or cry overwhelmed her. The stillness scared her and she spoke somewhat shakily. "What can I do for you, Mr. Yuy?"  
  
An amused look crossed his face as he turned to face her. He had never called her by anything other than her first name. He never would.  
  
"I was in the neighborhood."  
  
Relena stiffened. Heero never just stopped by. He always had a reason. Of course, before the funeral she hadn't seen him years, but still, he only came out of hiding when it suited him.  
  
"Really?" she asked skeptically.  
  
He nodded, still showing amusement at her. "I was delivering a program I had designed just about one hundred kilometers from here. I thought of you."  
  
She was bewildered. He looked as if he were trying not to give her a big, goofy grin. Still, she couldn't believe that he was honestly just dropping in to say, "Hello."   
  
"What do you want, Heero?"  
  
His steps neared her and by the time he stopped she could feel his even breath on her face. He stooped and she thought fleetingly that he might kiss her. Instead of oscillating, he swerved his head to the side and whispered, "Redemption," huskily in her ear.  
  
Puzzled as to what he could mean by that, and shocked by his apparent comfort at being so near, Relena stepped back. "Heero?"  
  
"What do you want, Relena?"  
  
His face was grave now stern and serious. Each stark blue eye swam in pain, and she read them easily, though she knew not what they meant.  
  
"Quatre," she said without having to think. All emotion from his face vanished, and his eyes closed out all feeling in them, returning to a dark abyss. He turned from her, shoving his hands into his pockets once more.  
  
Why did she have to ask for the one thing he couldn't give? Did she not realize that he was there offering her everything she'd ever want? He didn't fool himself into thinking that she still disillusioned herself about loving him. That had ceased nearly ten years before hand. Though, perhaps it would ease his mission if she did. Still, everything he had was hers. He owed her too much.  
  
"Was that the wrong answer, Heero? Was I supposed to want you instead?" Her voice was fire and it burned him as she supposed it to. Satisfied with the retort, she turned from the room. He caught her arm, and pulled her to him, where he held her tightly against himself with both arms.  
  
"Do not chastise me, Relena." His voice deadly calm, she gasped. "I came to offer you some semblance of friendship. I will not allow you to ridicule me for attempting to feel human."  
  
He released her and rumpled his hair as she watched him turn in a circle.  
  
"I'm sorry, Heero," she said, placing a timid hand on his shoulder. She was already slightly afraid of the way he was acting, which was strange at least. Though, she had not known him in the past years. Perhaps he had changed. She decided to give him a chance. He could never hurt her, he had proved that many times over. Besides, she was lonely.  
  
His eyes drowned in hers for a moment, searching her depths. Se only looked on as he berated himself, telling himself that he had no right to touch her.  
  
"Don't ever apologize to me, Relena. Never."  
  
She smiled and let her hand fall into his, where she squeezed. Quatre wouldn't blame her for that. He needed the reassurance.  
  
"Are you hungry? I'm not much of a cook, but I think there's a box of macaroni and cheese in the cabinet."  
  
"I'm starved," he said, and let her lead him awkwardly into the kitchen.  
  
to be continued 


	5. chapter four

I do not own _Gundam Wing_, nor do I have any rights to it whatsoever. Please don't sue me.  
  
Recreate Me: I Crumble: Chapter Four  
  
Warning: I just want to remind everyone, since its been such a long time since I've posted on this story, to pay close attention to the dates, so you don't get too confused. The two scenarios in this chapter both take place on July 20th, however, they take place a year apart. As in past chapters, the most recent date (AC208) is told first, followed by the earlier date (AC207). I promise that the later will catch up to the former. Why did I chose such an odd way to tell this story-for dramatic purposes of course! Anyway, on to the story.  
AC 208, 20 July  
  
Lady Une cracked her knuckles in irritation and clenched her jaw as she listened to the lieutenant. He dutifully and evenly reported the massacre that had taken place in the Northern Africa two days before.  
  
"...As you can clearly see, Madam Commander, not only were numerous men from the wrong sect killed, but also women and children from both sides. The Wellington family warehouse was, again, as you have seen, riddled with corpses. There were no survivors within a 100 meter radius of the warehouse, Sir."  
  
Lady Une looked him straight in the eye, and drummed her fingers impatiently. "Well, Milliardo," she began patronizingly, "it appears as though your brilliant idea to keep Yuy under our control seems to have failed, what would you say?"  
  
Zechs, composed as ever, easily ignored her tepid demeanor. "I realize his defection, Commander, and am starkly grieved by it, such as it is. I have my reputation-my life invested in keeping Yuy's objectives (or returning them to) one in the same with the Preventors."  
  
Une's eyes darkened considerably as she slammed her hands on her desk. "Peacecraft! The entire point of this was to eliminate Yuy from being a threat by _engaging_ his interests! It was not to make him even more of a loose cannon by fueling his misguided sense of pride and justice, which, I daresay, you have more than successfully done!" She resumed her seat and scribbled something on her desk calendar. "My security tells me that he has been frequenting the Vice Foreign Minister's home over the past year. . . When was he last there, do you know?"  
  
"Relena says she has not heard from him for near to one month," he reported, gritting his teeth.   
  
"You are aware of the danger in this friendship?" Une asked. Zechs honored her with a nod.  
  
"There will be no returning Yuy's interests back to those of the Preventors. He has long left those behind. By acting on his own conscience, instead of his orders, he has condemned himself. If he is not dead within one month's time, I will make sure it is accidently leaked to the press that you personally financed Winner's assassination. You can consider that a threat." She tossed a large envelope at him. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."   
  
He stood, still grinding his teeth. He left an aura of rage in his wake.  
----------  
Zechs wrung his hands as the screen in front of him flashed again the scenes of carnage from Africa. It was the same footage he had just showed Une. And though his composure was cold and calm, his wringing hands gave away the turmoil inside at the very product of Yuy's obvious betrayal. He had slaughtered the lot of them. There were only a few members of each family yet living.  
  
Yuy would pay dearly for this act. As Une had ordered, he would pay with his life. And though he was now employing the help of Change, he promised himself that he would finally end his long time feud with the boy. He would be the one to kill the bastard. He sneered to himself as he imagined the man his hands itched to slay. He had to stifle a growl as he pictured his sister in Yuy's arms, as he had come in upon them spooning a month ago.  
  
Zechs watched in satisfaction as Chang allowed his lips to curl in disgust. A snarl escaped his throat. How could people do this to each other even now, when all others strove for peace; Zechs knew this is what the younger officer was thinking.  
  
The screen switched off, and Zechs rose, crossing his arms. He faced the corner, avoiding eye-contact with Chang. "I assumed that you have already deduced that this is no ordinary feud.."  
  
Wufei nodded, awaiting further explanation.  
  
The Preventors hired an independent moderator-a former terrorist turned mercenary (of sorts)-to keep things under control. However, this agent, as you saw, got a little carried away. We have had no contact with him for the past fifty-two hours.  
  
"He's running then?"  
  
Zechs nodded, "Uned and I have agreed that you should be the one to track him, if you have no objections."  
  
A sour glare lingered on Wufei's face, his fury at the injustice barely being bottled by his pride. "When do I get the file?"  
  
Zechs looked him straight in the eye. "You get no file. The mercenary is Heero Yuy. That should be enough information."  
  
Chang's hands gripped his armrest with white knuckles. "The bastard's snapped. . ." he breathed.  
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AC 207, 20 July  
  
The sun was high, but it was uncharacteristically cool for the end of July. It had rained for the past week. The sun had just peeked over the clouds earlier that morning. He smiled inwardly as he checked his watch, forcing the smile to manifest itself outwardly on his face as a pre-mission warm-up. It was 10:45 am. At 10:47 am, every Thursday morning Relena snuck from her office for an early lunch break to the bookstore/café two blocks from her office.  
  
She rounded the corner right on time. Today, he noted, she wore a lavender pant-suit with a pearl necklace and pearl earrings to match. She gripped her white handbag in front of her as her white heals clicked with determined strides. Heero counted to thirty, then folded the news magazine he hadn't been reading and headed for the bookstore. He walked straight to the café at the back of the store. He stood in front of the stack of newspapers as if deliberating over whether to pick up the Times or the Post. He reached thirty once again, and grabbed whichever issue was on top before hiding behind it's randomly opened pages while standing in line. Relena took her place at a table for two in the far corner. Her nose was buried in a novel, the reason, he presumed for her weekly trips to this antiquated place. She would call it quaint.  
  
He ordered two tall black coffees, knowing she was allergic to chocolate and didn't fancy hot and foamy drinks. He flashed a generous tip when ordering a freshly made cherry danish to be delivered to his table with two forks in exactly five minutes. The tart, though seemingly a small gesture, was overall a pivotal step in today's short mission objective.  
  
He snuck up to her from behind and cleared his throat. Annoyingly, she didn't respond as he would have supposed. The book enraptured her so that her awareness was down. He frowned, then replaced it with his usual straight face; it was the one he knew she would be expecting. "Is this seat taken?" He asked evenly. Her eyes grew as he sat down, raising her coffee cup before setting it in front of her. She closed her book and set it aside. He noted the title-_Wuthering Heights_.  
  
"Can I help you, Heero?" she asked. He sipped his coffee before offering her his best attempt at a sheepish grin. He had practiced it last night. It had the desired affect of causing her to drop her guard and smile as she absently fiddled with Quatre's ring.  
  
"I saw you sit down when I was in line. I thought maybe you would like some coffee." On cue, she sipped her drink.  
  
"Well, thank you" She took another slow sip. " Do you come here often, Heero?"  
  
He shook his head. "I just came in for coffee and a paper." He held up the paper he had been hiding behind in line. "Do you come here often, Relena?"  
  
She watched him, checking for any sign, any hint of embarrassed hesitation in his actions. He didn't waver, and Heero Yuy most definitely did not get embarrassed. "Occasionally," she said, reading the glittering smile in his eyes as the server delivered a steaming rolled cherry danish in front of her. She regarded the two forks and lowered her eyes from view of his manipulative, yet subtle flirtations.   
  
"What's the matter? Do you not like these? I can have them bring us something else?"  
  
The distress in his voice sounded so sincere, and out of place in his words that she met his eyes with a startled and genuine smile. A slight blush graced her cheeks. "Oh no. Actually, it is my favorite. He handed her a fork with the same adorably sheepish grin he had given her before, and allowed her the first bite. She was acutely aware of her lips as she blew on the bite to cool it. The pastry was absolutely superb. She said as much. He nodded in response.  
  
Under the table, his toe brushed hers. He drew back for a moment, and then he placed his foot beside hers, rubbing gently at her heal. No blush rose to his cheeks. In fact, no thing above the table gave way to the luxury he was taking underneath it.  
  
They ate the rest in silence until Heero had the final bite en route for his mouth. He realized his mistake just in time. He excused himself and reversed the direction of his fork, feeding the last bite to Relena. She accepted it willingly, but awkwardly. A bit of red filling clung to the corner of her mouth. Heero wiped it away with his index finger and then licked it clean.  
  
To Relena's temporary internal disbelief, his color had not changed to reveal the slight blush she had expected. He was not sitting in a relaxed possessive hunch like Quatre used to do, leaning slightly on his elbows, a boyish grin on his face and love in his eyes.  
  
Heero ran through conversation topics in his head, but could not think of any of the suitable ones he had thought of the night before. The one thing he thought of, he could not mention, for sake of the mission. If he did speak of her glaring lack of a personal body guard, as he might have in another situation, she would accuse him of being a single-minded and impossible man. He was drawing a blank, until he noticed her unconscious nervous fumble with the ring Quatre had given her.  
  
He gazed at it pointedly until she followed his eyes, when she stopped her messing, leaving the ring positioned upside down. His fingers righted it with the gentlest touch. Then, he held her hand to his nose, examining the ring closely.  
  
"You still wear his ring. Why?" He said.  
  
Relena promptly pulled her hand away and stood. "I need to be getting back."  
  
Afraid he had spoiled his mission, Heero stood just as quickly, leaving her book and his newspaper behind. In an unnoticed chivalrous gesture, he pushed her chair back after she'd gone. In two quick strides he had caught up with her and had linked her arm through his. "I'll walk you."  
  
"I can't possibly be seen with you in public like this. It will start all sorts of rumors," she protested, but did not pull away. He smiled, noting her annoyance, yet confused acceptance of his attentions.  
  
"Is there something wrong, Relena, with two old friends walking together in a comfortable and familiar way?"  
  
Relena frowned at him, as they rounded the corner. "Heero Yuy, you and I both know that you have never acted comfortable and familiar-until today. Speaking of which, your conduct today has left me wondering just exactly what it is that you want from me."  
  
He stopped, effectively halting Relena as well. His face contorted with thought as he looked at her, stroking her hand with his thumb. She willed herself not to blush as he raised that hand to her cheek and held it there as he spoke.  
  
"I don't think I can define for you what sort of relationship I want to have with you. But, I do know that I want you to trust me-more than anything."  
  
"Heero. . ."  
  
He let his hands fall to his sides and he turned to leave, counting this time to five. Right on time, Relena reached for his wrist, and he turned to face her.  
  
"Heero I do trust you," she said. "I'm just confused by you."  
  
He took her hands in his, pulled her close and brushed his lips against hers, breathing, "then trust me, Relena," as he turned, leaving her alone on the street.  
  
He smirked to himself inwardly as he tucked his magazine further into his pocket. All was on schedule. If he calculated correctly, Relena would be his in a year-maybe more. Then balance would be restored.  
Ah well, there you have it, finally. A good, new part to a story! I quite like it now that the story has finally actually begun, and we can get into the exciting stuff! I hope you all enjoyed it as well! Let me know what you think. 


	6. chapter five

Recreate Me (I Crumble), Chapter Five  
  
  
  
AC 207, 15 August  
  
  
Relena cursed herself as she rushed into her office thirty minutes late for work. For whatever reason, Heero had though it would be a good day to abduct her from her work early last night. He accosted her to her living room for a movie and a bottle of wine and Chinese take-out. He'd given her no warning of what to expect, though she did remember him leaving after the movie. That was before she had woken that morning in bed without hearing her alarmclock. Evidently, she had accidently unplugged it upon her unsteady tumble into bed. She made up for the lost time by splashing her face with water, changing clothes and tying her hair back with a stray chopstick.  
  
Her secretary smiled nervously at her as she asked for an agenda and any messages. She was handed a clipboard with a stack of pink message-notes pinned on top of her day's schedule. She signed and was so busy sorting through them that she didn't hardly notice the vase of two-dozen red roses on her desk until she was seated behind them and the scent devoured her nose. Curious, she raised her head and breathe the perfume in deeply. She searched for a card with a clue of the admirer's identity.   
  
Nestled in the middle was a small card with Heero's name written neatly across it. She sat back again and sighed. The flowers were lovely and made her feel tingly like she had last night: tipsy and snuggled against Heero while they watched whatever movie it was he'd brought over.  
  
His attention made her feel young. Not that she was really old. Twenty-seven was actually very young. She felt old–very old since Quatre's death. Heero took away that load...filled the void left by Quatre's absence.  
  
Her eyes focused on the red flowering brilliance in front of her, and it drifted to the first time Quatre had gifted her with such a bouquet.  
  
She and Quatre did not begin dating for years after the war, but saw each other from time to time when one was visiting the other's home region. They would have dinner and discuss business and politics. Often though, they left such formalities in favor of more fun and intimate subjects. They always enjoyed each other's company.  
  
After a few years of this they began to grow closer and correspond more frequently through email and phone.  
  
One day, Relena was getting ready to leave work when she received a vid-phone call from Quatre's earth-side car. He said that he was in the neighborhood and that he would pick her up from her home in an hour. It was nothing fancy, he had said–dinner and a show. He told her to dress as she would for any normal date.  
  
She rushed home to freshen and change, she remembered (though most of the events and emotions before Quatre's arrival were a blur. She could only recall them as quick, jumbled mess.) She settled on a plain, short black dress and loose hair, as it was the simplest and quickest. She wandered what he'd meant by telling her to dress as she would for a date. She didn't really go on many dates, and besides, she had thought, she hoped to impress him, as she had been harboring a growing love for him over the years.  
  
His car arrived, and he came to her door with a bouquet of two dozen red roses. She'd taken them and carefully set them in a large vase in her living room, expressing her pleasure in their beauty and aroma.  
  
She remembered the rest exactly. Quatre had come behind her and placed his arms around her waist as she admired the gift. She had started, but did not protest. He hugged her to him, smelling her hair. Relena relaxed into him, realizing fully that his feelings reciprocated hers.  
  
"I've missed you," he whispered.  
  
She smiled, "And I you."  
  
He then crossed in front of her, raising her right hand to his lips. "Will you do me the honor of accompanying me out this evening, Lady Relena."  
  
"It would be my pleasure," she had beamed. He escorted to her his car by the arm, where his driver opened the door for them.  
  
  
He had taken her to dinner in a small French bistro where they could sit at a small table in the back and be left alone. He addressed her now in French, one of the tongues she grew up speaking. (The others being German, English, and Spanish, though French was her favorite.)   
  
Business had barely entered their conversation. Politics though, were a different story. Though both had a hand in the political arena, between the two of them, it made for a lively, stimulating conversation rather than a dull, tedious one. Their ideas were much the same, both leaning toward the more liberal side of the spectrum, yet he was just conservative enough for them to discourse without goading the other.  
  
Of course, they journeyed through politics until they grew comfortable enough to meander through the more personal subjects. Quatre learned that Relena's favorite color was not indeed pink, as he had assumed, but violet. He also learned that she had a tranquil love of cats, but refrained from purchasing one as she was the only one of her household not allergic to their dander. Even Milliardo is allergic to them, she had said, though, not that it mattered, as he was on Mars. He did not miss the bitterness in her voice. As they left dinner for the play, he uncovered Relena's confused emotions toward her brother. He discovered that she felt awkward and strained, but also abandoned, unworthy, and horribly selfish. Quatre assured her that this was only natural, and equated it to his relationship with his sisters, which was also mostly non-existent. However, he did amend that at least Milliardo had watched out for her and acted concerned most of the time. He told her that her brother had a good heart, and was willing to go to great lengths for her. She smiled, wishing she could believe what he said about Milliardo.  
  
Relena did not go without learning a few things about Quatre that night either. She steered clear of mentioning the war, as she had made the mistake of freezing him over once before. It wasn't that he was not willing to talk about what happened. He was just not wanting to drag down the conversation with his own dark moments. One thing she did find shocking was that even though Quatre had a talent for the violin, he was also a proficient pianist. In addition, he could play both upright and electric bass. And, even though he enjoyed classical music very much, he could often be found playing jazz, and even oftener listening to some colonial punk. He said that all types of music represented the world well with their blending of sounds and meter, and that these three, he thought, were the ways in which he felt the world worked together. Classical was nature and space, Jazz was all life, and punk was the liberty and the restraint of the human spirit.  
  
She learned that he loved stupid comedy films, and the his favorite place to hid was the top level of the Winner Group labor-mech hangar, where he could secretly tweak the machines, and no secretary could bother him. She learned something she always seemed to forget between their meetings: he was just a regular guy underneath all the money, and the business infamy and the Gundam Pilot from so long ago. And she was just a girl he had charmed without her permission, but she didn't mind.  
  
  
  
They saw a comedy that night. Quatre said it was a classic, even though Relena had never heard of it. _The Importance of Being Earnest_ by Oscar Wilde was an ancient play, set in England close to seven hundred years before they sat down to watch it. It was about silly Victorian women and vain Victorian men making a mess of themselves in a very entertaining fashion. All of this was wrapped up in a the classic Victorian way with a happy, somewhat predictable, somewhat satirical, somewhat awkward way. Either way it was good for a little though and a lot of laughs.  
  
Afterward, not wanting the night to end quite yet, Relena asked Quatre over for some tea. He promplty asked if there would be any cucumber sandwiches, for which he received a playful shove.  
  
Upon returning to her manor, Relena found the servants had retired. She apologized for having to lead Quatre to the dark kitchens. He said he didn't mind at all and leaned against a stainless steel counter top, watching the slender Relena rummage through a floor-level cabinet.  
  
He appreciated that she had shed her shoes upon entering the house. He had as well, and now the both stood barefoot in the spotless kitchen. He enjoyed the meeting of her foot with her leg and the delicate swell of her ankle. He made no show of watching her, but she moved as though she knew his eyes were upon her.  
  
Finally, she popped up, holding a loft a simple red box. All I can seem to find is a Breakfast Tea. It will be rather strong, do you mind?"  
  
"Not at all," he chuckled. She set the water to boil and quickly gather two blue-flowered teacups with matching saucers. Though she was aware of Quatre's eyes following her, they did nothing to unnerve her. She smiled at his attentions and wondered why he'd ever looked upon her in the first place. What got his attention? And how long had he watched her?  
  
"You never did tell me what business brought you all the way here from space, Mr. Winner," Relena said coyly as she dropped tea balls into the pot of steaming water. "It must have been something terribly important, and yet I have heard of no major goings-on that would concern you greatly."  
  
Quatre moved to stand over her shoulder on pretext of taking in the tea's aroma. "Miss Relena, you insult me. Business is not the whole of my life."  
  
Relena poured the tea.  
  
"Well then, why are you in the neighborhood, Mr. Winner? If I may be so bold as to ask?"  
  
"Mr. Winner, indeed! Oh, Relena, you were so relaxed with me all night, and now you turn to me with formalities that I am unaccustomed to sharing with you!"  
  
"It must be the aroma of the tea that has invaded my senses," she said with a smile. She handed him his cup, which he promptly set aside. He did this with her's as well.  
  
"We will not drink then, if it alters you in such a way, Princess."  
  
"Don't be silly, the tea is the whole reason I asked you in." She moved to reach for her saucer. His hands, gentle on her elbows, stopped her progress. He pulled her against his chest.  
  
"Relena," he pouted. "You make me feel unwanted. Tea? I refuse to believe that you only wanted company while you drank. Surely, you must know that you are my entire reason for coming to earth this weekend." His voice quieted and softened as his faced neared her's. "I could not stand to be parted from you another day. I believe I have fallen in love with you."  
  
He kissed her then, it really was him that lead the kiss, as he was the more aggressive. She took his gesture in willingly, if not longingly. It ended in no short time. After it followed another embrace more heated that then first, and after that, another, until the two had ventured upstairs to Relena's bedroom, busying themselves with each other far into the night.  
  
The tea was left to cool and fester on the counter.  
  
A small smile graced Relena's face as the vision of waking up with her head on Quatre's bare chest for the first time faded into the bouquet of roses in front of her eyes. She'd never have guessed Quatre as one to sleep with someone on the first date–but then again–had it been anyone else but him, she would have felt herself horribly dirty. They were in love, even then, so it didn't seem to count.  
  
Her eyes found the card once again. That solitary word chilled and warmed her simultaneously. The tornado within caused her to shiver and she wondered what Heero wanted with her. He had pursued her since their encounter at the book store. He seemed interested in dating her. He was cautious though.   
  
She chewed her lip. They were more or less dating in her book. She knew that he filled her with exciting sensations that she liked. She knew that she wasn't lonely when he was around. She liked that...but she supposed that he held back because of Quatre.   
  
She looked down at his ring. She still wore it. It bothered Heero, but putting it away seemed too final. It was too soon yet, she thought. However, she was getting impatient with Heero's chastity. She was rather ready for him to at least attempt to sleep with her. Whether she would deny him or not, she had yet to decide.  
  
  
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AC 208, 21 July  
  
  
Wufei impatiently drummed on his desk with a pencil, waiting from a call from Po. Only minutes before he had finished the paper work to have every line in Relena's–the Vice Foreign Minister's home bugged and monitored round the clock. If Yuy contacted her, he would know it instantly. He grimaced to himself at the thought.  
  
He knew Yuy would contact her. If all reports were correct, he'd been banging her for at least the past couple of months. (Grimace the second). Yuy was smart. There was no doubt that he knew what he was doing. From Wufei's own few dealings with Minister Darilan since Quatre's death, he knew she thought she was in control. She had no idea that Yuy had reverted to a terrorist; she didn't realize that he was far more dangerous than he was the first time around.  
  
Wufei wanted to tell her; he wanted to warn her of the destruction Heero was capable of. Wufei wanted to inform her of the death Heero had caused. He yearned for her to realize his mistakes. No, his intention, he told himself, was not to cause her pain, for he wished pain on no one; he only wished for her to see that she had been deceived by a disturbed man. He wanted her to see those people in Africa. Whether Yuy deserved to be killed or not was not up to him. No, his job was to locate the man and bring him in. Wufei wouldn't lay a finger on him if it wasn't necessary to keep him in line. No matter how angry Wufei became, he knew he could control himself. He would not play God to Yuy. If Yuy died, he vowed now, that it would not be by his hand.  
  
Though, even as he vowed his blood boiled with the injustice of Yuy's crimes. The disgusting viciousness in which they had been perpetrated had been unnecessary. It made Wufei's lips curl maliciously. He wondered what had happened to Yuy to pervert his sense of honor so much.  
  
He wanted to ask Relena, but again he was sure she knew nothing. She was innocent and most likely believed herself to be in love with him. If Yuy asked her, she would tell him and they would flee together. They still might.  
  
Yuy would hit the manor eventually and that would be his downfall.  
  
Wufei's comm buzzed. "Chang, speak quickly," he answered.  
  
Sally reported hastily, much to Wufei's satisfaction, that a team in Hungary had spotted the target (Yuy) near the Balaton Museum in Keszthely.   
  
Wufei began packing his files. "Draw him away from the tourists, and the college, if possible," He said. "Otherwise, follow protocol."  
  
"I'll do what I can, but you know the tranquilizers won't work on him."  
  
"Do whatever you have to do, but keep him alive–unless he turns homicidal."  
  
"You got it, Wufei." Sally saluted and smiled endearingly.   
  
"I'll be touching down there in a couple of hours."  
  
"We'll be looking forward to it." Wufei cut the comm without a farewell, and sighed. He allowed himself to ponder on his relationship with that woman as he hurriedly (though neatly) finished packing his things into a brief case. She was a good officer, a good partner, a decent friend, and a strong women. He might have smiled to himself had his mission been any less grim.   
  
He radioed for a jet to be readied immediately, and left a message for Zechs, his immediate superior. He also called in, on his way to the hangar, for reinforcements to be sent on a jet directly behind him, aided with extra ammunition and restraints–god knows he'd need it.  
  
The plane flight should have taken just over an hour, but the minutes stretched out as Wufei calmed himself. He cleared his thoughts to focus on the space around him. He conserved his energy by going into an almost trance-like state. His breathing slowed, and he concentrated on the beating of his heart until he could hear it clearly. The space around him, which at first he had expanded, not contracted, and only his pulse was left. He counted–fifty beats in a minute, and then forty. It leveled out at thirty, and kept the pace. His world throbbed with each palpitation. Again his universe expanded and he was laying in a green pasture, dotted with wildflowers. There was a clear, cloudless sky above. The sun heated his skin, and the warmth calmed him further. A vision danced before his eyes, and he saw three nymphs, frolicking in the grass. One was Chinese, and wore an exquisite silk dress, and Wufei pined for her to come near. Yet nymphs are allusive, and evanescent. However, he was used to only one nymph haunting him in his peace. The two others were new, and tantalizing. The second was tall, and strong, She had a Chinese face and wore an olive tunic. She smiled into his eyes, and tugged his heartstrings. He watched her with devotion and love. The final nymph was more translucent than the other two. She was a small, winged, blonde thing, with rosy cheeks and a thin mouth. Her face looked worn and sad, as if she were ever suffering. He reached out to her, moved to compassion. Just as his fingers brushed her shimmering pink robes, she spread her wings and took flight, leaving his sanctuary. "Relena..." he whispered as his phone removed him to the real world.  
  
He answered it calmly, expecting to hear Sally say that he had been apprehended successfully and they were en route to the airport. Instead it was a grim Zechs.   
  
"Do you have a news screen in that plane, Chang?" He didn't wait for Wufei to answer before continuing. "Every channel out of Hungary is broadcasting about a totaled chemical truck in the middle of the free way. It's blocking up the highway for miles. This driver is dead." Wufei was silent.   
  
"The news is saying that it was a truck carrying chemical waste, which is enough to get people into a panic, obviously. However, the news isn't saying that it is really an undercover Preventer rig. Inside were six preventer agaents and Heero Yuy. All Preventors are confirmed dead. Names were, Allain, Allen, Brent, Chatless, Stefen, and Po. Yuy escaped. Our current presumption is that he killed them all and caused the truck to crash in order to flee."  
  
Wufei hardly allowed himself to blink, let alone reveal his rage. "Mission: failure. I'll have them turn the planes around. It won't happen again, Sir." "You're correct, Chang. The next Preventer Yuy sees will be you. All other soldiers are to avoid him, only radioing in any sightings. If we lose any more men, it will be your neck."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Wufei said. Zechs terminated the call.  
  
Sally was dead. Wufei hung his head, rubbing his temples. Yuy had killed his only true friend.  
  
  
-------------  
  
  
AC 207, 27 September 27  
  
  
Heero stood back, slinging the stained washcloth over his shoulder. He admired the shining black truck in front of him. It was a beauty: shiny, clean, and powerful. It was the closest thing he could have now to a Gundam. He wanted a plane, which would be the next closest thing. However, now was not the time to be purchasing a jet. He would have eventually. Perhaps, he thought, one would be convenient when he and Relena were married. She would like what it offered. He could fly her around to any place on earth for a picnic, or a weekend away. She would find it romantic. He just wanted to fly.   
  
She was getting impatient with him, he acknowledged as he climbed in the truck's cab and set out for her house. They were going to have dinner there. She was wanting, as she had said, to get to know more about him as a person. She wanted to share herself with him–to have a defined relationship. He supposed that meant that she wanted to be able to publicly say she was dating someone, and that someone was Heero Yuy: Mysterious Military Type.  
  
That was the objective, however much he scoffed at the title, boyfriend, or fiancé. They were destined to be together. They should live together and bring balance and children into the world. That was definite, but he was leery of divulging too much. He knew she wouldn't be angry about Rene. If anything, she would be sympathetic. It would encourage their bond to grow. He hadn't loved Rene. She was an inconsequential whore, and he had treated her as such. Relena was different; he had never been inclined to treat her the way he had Rene. (That's why he hadn't slept with her yet) She was Earth, and he was Space. He loved her. He had to. He was amazed by her kindness and idealism, her warmth and strength, her easy forgiveness and quick acceptance. Heero was convinced that all of this would only aid his mission.  
  
The feelings he had when he was with her ran deeper than lust, he thought. Perhaps, if she asked to have a "better defined relationship" with him, he wouldn't be angry like he head been with Rene. He wasn't afraid he would be–he was going to propose to her soon. He should allow her to think of him as a boyfriend first. Most women don't like that much of a jump; it is likely to startle them into a no. He would propose after this mission to South America. There was no use in proposing before leaving for six months. No, when he came back, he would have a ring more beautiful and suited to her than Quatre's. He hated that ring.  
  
"Tonight, she will have what she wants," Heero smiled. He loved her, after all.  
  
- Heero's love though, was not a pure and romantic love. He felt himself connected to Relena by the soul. It was a true love, but his motivations for pursuing the relationship were tainted. This is not a love story, but a deception: planned and plotted. This manipulation has been stirred for years. All was set into motion the night Zechs asked Heero to assassinate the head of the Winner Group. Up to that point, the villain with the ironic name had been lost and floundering. He felt as if the world were dying and he could do nothing to stop it, because he had no means–and a plan without means is nothing. But, for that magnificent opportunity he left with a light heart. A chance to return the world to a peaceful balance was within his grasp. His political contacts were just as they had to be. Worldly decisions were given to him to be made through his gun, and manipulations of the government to be made through his love for Relena.  
  
It is true, this man had good intentions once. He had saved the Earth Sphere and her Heroine multiple times. He had fought for peace and life for all at the cost of his own. Watch this man act and take note of his perversion. He says his goal is peace and balance, yet his means are underhanded and deceitful. His love is clouded with the allure of power, his justice mixed with bloodlust. He never before had been perched in a place of such power as he had now–and the offering had perverted his purity. The long wait and the helplessness he had endured while Relena was enamored with Quatre (and caring nothing for politics). The ruined man with tainted love as he arrives at the house of his victim. He has such soft blue eyes, full of genuine care. And such a gentle touch, ready to be reveled in. Oh, how can it be a happy ending for this innocent when all are against her? How will she endure and come out better in the end? Is it even possible?  
  
:  
  
  
Relena was greeted with a swift, sweet kiss. She gave Heero a playful squeeze and led him to the garden, where they would be dining. She wore a brown dress with an olive sweater, and sandals. The dress was short and showed off the legs Heero had recently told her he was so fond of.   
  
She smiled as he squeezed her hand. He pulled her chair out for her and then seated himself. Dinner was served immediately. The two discussed nothing of consequence for most of the meal. It was not until a desert of berry cobbler-like pastry was being served that Relena felt comfortable speaking what was on her mind.  
  
"Heero," she said. He looked her directly in the eye, anticipating her words. "How would you classify our relationship?"  
  
He smiled, though he made it appear forced. "Why do you ask?"  
  
She blushed and looked down. "Oh Heero, is it so much to want to be able to say that I've been dating you exclusively for the past few months, and that I am very much enamored with you?"  
  
This time Heero allowed a blush to appear on his face. "Did anyone ever say that you couldn't?" He asked. "You can say whatever you like about our relationship. We have nothing to hide."  
  
"But what do I say you do? All you work seems to be classified."  
  
"What does it matter? All who you would tell about me know who I am, I would think at least by now. And, if they're curious, just tell them I'm a soldier who does a lot of computer work and travels often."  
  
Relena stood, and Heero followed, offering his arm to travel the dark garden paths. Small lanterns lined the lanes, just barely highlighting the green foliage. Still, the trees stood high and created a canopy that diminished the light, but enriched the atmosphere. It was an exquisite garden.  
  
"You are mysterious, Heero." She smiled at his eyes. "I'm glad I have you to myself now, aren't you?"  
  
He was silent, though he offered her a reluctant grin. Hurt and concern marred her face and erased her quiet bliss. Just when she was about to seek the matter, Heero began to explain himself.  
  
"Relena, you have to understand that before I moved her to be with you I lived in a hold. I was miserable–and since the chance has arisen to be with you, I have been happier than I ever could have thought possible in the past. I am wholly glad that you share yourself with me. I am only sorry at the way it came to be. You suffer for my happiness. Oh Relena, don't cry, please."  
  
He seater he on the bench swing, hanging from a bough. He sat beside her, encircling her with his arms as she wiped her eyes. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."  
  
"No, I'm sorry," she said meekly. "I didn't mean to cry. I can only imagine now how difficult your life has been, Heero, and I don't think anything I've been through could easily compare. Tell me, please?" She said. "Tell me what happened to you when you disappeared after the war; what did you go through?  
  
He shifted and he pleading eyes seemed to soften him. "Alcohol mostly. I drank a lot the first couple of years I was in L1. I went there because it was the closest thing to a home I've ever had, but it was harsh to me. I worked myself to physical exhaustion during the day, and then drank at night. Sometimes, there were drugs, but most of the time it was just the liquor. I was not healthy. I am surprised I have no diseases. I stopped all at once when I woke up to a girl I had never seen before in my life. It scared me. I didn't want to end up a disgusting mess, which was where I was heading: all because I had nothing better to do.   
  
"I moved to a better part of the colony–got a job in a mechanical repair shop and went to school for awhile. I dropped out pretty soon though. It was boring, and I preferred my work. Though, school was where I met Rene."  
  
He paused to gauge Relena's reaction. She didn't stir. Concern was all he saw in her eyes. He swallowed and continued feeling satisfied that Relena would not be jealous of Rene. She loved him.  
  
"Rene, I suppose you could call her my girlfriend, though I'm not sure we had much of a relationship. I lost myself in her, I remember that. She stayed over every night, and I hardly let her out of my sight. We lived together for two years, but I don't think I ever loved her. She was mostly just someone around that was available for a regular fuck. That's all I was to her until she asked if we could try to be anything more. She said she was sick of living like we were. She said we either tried or she left. I told her to pack her bags I didn't think that kind of relationship was possible between the two of us"  
  
Relena was silent as they swung themselves back and forth slowly. She contemplated what she heard, but felt nothing change in her feelings for him. "What happened, why couldn't you love her?"  
  
"She left and was killed in a car accident about two hours later. I still feel guilty for that, but I was honest. I couldn't love her, Relena. I tried, but I couldn't. I've only ever loved you."  
  
"Oh, Heero!" she gasped and kissed him hard. In moments he had forgotten about his past. She whispered that she was in love with him, and that she was sorry he had gone through so much.   
  
As she led him into the house, she said that she wished she could have been there to help him through all of that. As she led him to her room, she said that if it were in her power, she would never leave him to loneliness again. As he unzipped her dress and let it slide to the floor, he told her that he had to leave for a mission that could take up to six months. He was leaving in a week. As she coaxed his pants to the floor she told him that it was all the more reason to do this now. Who knew if they would have another chance before he left?  
  
She kissed him and ran her nails down his bare back to emphasize her point. He pushed her naked body back onto her bed and covered it with his.  
  
Relena learned quickly that he was not a gentle lover, but she did not want him to be. His aggression fueled her desire for him. She reveled that she was making love with Heero Yuy. It was a fantasy come true. Heero said he felt likewise.  
  
  
  
Heero slept over every night until her left to begin wrangling drug cartels in South America. 


End file.
